


Bruises

by 2davidbeckham3



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU, Character Study (?), M/M, Tried my hand at writing something different - and probably failed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 19:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2davidbeckham3/pseuds/2davidbeckham3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David finds Iker and it's not what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Some sort of weird AU (vaguely spy and secret agent-y but who knows) with to many random allusions to art. But, then again, David Beckham is art.
> 
> Work not beta'd! Sorry for any mistakes
> 
> (*edited and fixed a few minimal mistakes on 2/16)

 

 

 

"What have you gotten yourself into now?" David mused, voice a low murmur, his eyes drawn to the bright crimson staining the, otherwise immaculate, scene.

A Renaissance painting of a crumpled saint, defeated while attempting to administer his own form of judgement. Mercy was never Iker's strong suit, though David would have guessed that had he foreseen this outcome - that he would've gotten the wounds that now mark his body - Iker would have chosen a more benevolent option. The bleeding cuts and violet bruises now marring the Iker's pale hands were an abomination, in David's eyes.

Iker was vaguely aware of the other man's presence above him, his blurred vision only able to take in a face framed by a golden halo. The voice, though, was unmistakable. 

"Now, up you go." 

"David?" Left voiceless, his lips formed the name like a mute prayer, adding on to Iker's frustration. 

Iker was brought to his feet like a weightless doll, his arm limply tossed over David's broad frame. This display was mostly for show, in his pain-filled haze, Iker's weight was fully supported by his blond-haired savior. 

It was fitting, Iker mused, that he had momentarily mistaken David for some sort of angel. Like the statue of the same name which boasts perfection in its sleek lines, Iker thought David,  _his_  David, was no different. In all actuality, Iker  thought that the statue, with its supposed greatness, fell short of the man he knew. 

It was like being in the presence of a god, David's magnetizing personality was not lost on anybody. Yet, there were those who disagreed, _heretics_ , in Iker's mind. Those who thought that David's altar was filled with too many worldly possessions, that his physique was sullied by the dark ink that Iker had so often traced with his tongue. 

In short, David was perfection personified. Not that Iker would ever admit it out loud.

"You're lucky I love you, y'know?" An exasperated voice cut through Iker's stupor, and Iker hoped that his smile was answer enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work published work here, and my first contribution to the fandom. I really hope you all enjoyed it. Even if you didn't, leave me feedback, I really want to improve my writing and continue writing for the fandom and becksillas~
> 
> Thank you for your time!


End file.
